


Hunger

by Nary



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Innuendo, M/M, Tea, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-02
Updated: 2012-03-02
Packaged: 2017-10-31 23:44:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/349629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was the only one who could make Moriarty talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunger

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Hunger 饥渴](https://archiveofourown.org/works/360937) by [melnakuru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/melnakuru/pseuds/melnakuru), [Nary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary)



He was the only one who could make Moriarty talk. Mycroft watched from behind the glass as others, more skilled than him in their own particular specialties, made their best efforts and failed. His face remained impassive as they used their knives and their water and their electrical prods and their threats. Somehow, incredibly, Moriarty's expression stayed nearly as calm throughout it all. Occasionally, in the depths of what must surely have been agony, he would close his eyes and his mouth would open in a sort of quiet moan that might have passed for rapture. Mycroft found that particular look most unsettling, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. 

It had been two days since the prisoner had been fed when Mycroft first stepped into the cell with him. He carried a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits. "You must be hungry," he said without offering them.

"Not for food," Moriarty murmured, the first words he'd spoken since they'd brought him here. It wasn't much, but it was more than anyone else had gotten. It might be a start. 

"No?" Mycroft set the plate and cup down anyway. "What for, then?"

Moriarty crawled to the food and took the cup between surprisingly steady hands. He sipped it and smiled. "You know how I take it." He made the innocuous phrase sound like a caress.

"Of course," Mycroft said calmly, looking down at him. He was crouched on the floor, animal-like and weak and pale; he should have looked vulnerable, but he didn't. "You didn't answer me," Mycroft prompted.

"Hm, what? Oh yes, my hunger. Hungry for you, of course. I've been waiting for you." 

Mycroft knew better than to show any reaction to that, but that didn't mean he didn't feel something - a teetering between fear and desire in the pit of his stomach. There was nothing he could have said that wouldn't have betrayed him, so he remained silent and waited.

"I know you've been watching from behind that mirror," Moriarty said, still sipping his tea. "Tell me, do you watch all your torture sessions, or just the ones that get you hard?"

No response, no safe one at any rate. Mycroft turned to go, to retreat behind the relative safety of his glass, when Moriarty made a sound - that moan, that little half-sob in his throat - and, against his better judgment, he looked back and saw him grinning. "That's the one you like, is it? Good to know. Come back and visit soon," he said to Mycroft's hastily retreating back. "You can turn the cameras off and we'll have a niiiiice long chat."

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at [naryrising](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/naryrising) if you want to ask questions, make requests, or chat!


End file.
